Dirty American
by jokes0nyou
Summary: The Sons of Anarchy was in full throttle, Happy Lowman was still considered a young blood in his prime. Jax and Opie were ready to be patched in, wild and full of life. The times were good and spontaneous. Olga Piekrasa threw a dart on a map and took off, ready for a new life in a different land. She never expected coming toe to toe with an all American biker badass.
1. pilot

Okay, so the reason I haven't been working on 'Dirty American' is because I really didn't like the way the story was going so, I've decided to start over and now that I have a grip on what I want it to be, I hope you'll all give it a second chance. Thank you! I do not own anything

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**Pilot**

_The hustler keeps on hustlin' me_

_Doin' what I wanna cuse' I got to be free_

_The devil is a woman and she took my soul_

_Claws in me, she won't let me go_

_ - The Devil is a Woman_

She rolled down the window and turned down the radio, a calm and cool breeze coming from the desert sand. Her 1980 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am sounded as if it was out of breath, as she drove down the dirt road. Olga couldn't complain, she picked it up on her way into Rio Vista, CA. for a pretty reasonable price. She had been driving non-stop for about two days, showering at local truck stops, when her last car gave up on her and left her almost in the middle of nowhere, next to a little junkyard. She found the Trans am's golden eagle to be beautiful and sharp. She didn't seem to have any other choice, it was the only working car in the wasteland anyway. Olga was happy enough with it, and took off with no set destination.

A few hours after the sun had set Olga looked over to a sign that read, '**Now Exiting Rio Vista, CA**.' Underneath told her that a town called Charming was around 60 miles ahead of her. she had a laugh and a small smile, a town called charming couldn't be all that bad. She was growing tired of driving for so long, she needed a rest in one spot, even if just for a short while. A flashy red sign caught her attention, "White buffalos Bar, one drink couldn't hurt." she told herself and turned into the parking lot.

The smell of cigars and whiskey brought her home, she shook her head and fixed herself, bringing the reality of her situation to mind wasn't going to do her any good. Alcohol first. she strutted up to the bar, ignoring the open stares and sneers. Olga felt a shiver of excitement pass through her, letting a devilish smirk play at her lips and her eyes narrowed in at the alcohol lined in rows behind the bartenders head. She let her hand slide over her Colt Diamondback beneath her brown leather jacket, tucked into her boot cut jeans. A gift from her grandfather when she was still young and learning how to shoot, she went nowhere without it. Seating herself she motioned the bartender, in her thick accent she spoke, "Whiskey." the man gave her a curious look-over before turning around. "Well, hello there doll." Olga rolled her eyes before turning them sideways to the man next to her. The man held his arm up and signaled the bartender to give him a round of what she was having. He showed her a smile that resembled a snarl, with wild black hair, and an icy blue stare. Some women might find that attractive, all Olga could think was; snake. "tol'ko to, chto mne nuzhno.." Olga sighed. "You're not from around here are ya' doll." The man joked, Olga replied in sarcasm, "Now what gave you that idea?" She scowled, the man cackled. "You reek of foreign pussy." The idiots response made her tense and turn to the man with a fierce glare. "Vy nevezhestvenny svinoy! How dare you!" She spat. The man let out a bark of laughter, before he could reply a whistle pierced through the bar and a heavy Scottish accent followed, "Tiggy! hurry up with those beers!" Olga turned to the man who spoke and noticed he wasn't alone. A group of men clad in biker gear sat around a pool table, they reminded her of a pack of wolves. The man, 'Tig', flipped the guy off and turned back to her. " How bout' you play around with us and make some money?" He grinned at her. "Go fuck yourself," she stated simply and turned to her drink. "Aw now don't be like tha-" before his hand reached her arm she turned in the stool and had her gun looked right between his eyes. He let out a wild laugh, "ooh shit I think I'm in love!" he continued to laugh and Olga smiled threateningly. A gun cocked behind her head, "Drop it," The rasp and pure masculinity of the voice behind her made her eyes want to roll into the back of her head. She felt the gun to her head push further into her scalp, and she sighed before lowering her gun. "Ah, don' worry Hap, foreign girl and I were just havin' some fun, right doll?" Tig winked at her, "You could say that." She nodded, and turned around as she felt the gun behind her lower.

Happy Lowman wasn't a man who got caught off guard, but those fierce eyes belonging to the bitch in front of him certainly did just that. He saw eyes like that every time he looked in a mirror, they were cold, merciless; they screamed fighter. He felt himself grow slightly hard from those eyes. " Can't take you fucking brats anywhere," A voice belonging to a heavy-set man grumbled. "The fuck's that mean Piney?" Tig growled to the older male standing next to Happy. "My job was to make sure you assholes made it back in one piece, I don't want Gemma's rath brought down on me anymore than you fuckers do. Lets get goin' before we're late." The man turned and headed to the door where the Scottish man and another were waiting. Happy peered into those eyes one last time before turning away, Olga let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, when she felt a hand slap on her shoulder. "Until next time doll." Tig grinned at her and she gave a small nod. She watched the group of men leave until the door was shut, "You're one crazy bitch" the bartender acknowledged, she let out a small laugh and took a drink.

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tol'ko to, chto mne nuzhno - Just what I need

Vy nevezhestvenny svinoy - You ignorant swine


	2. Karma

Thank you to those who reviewed! I really appreciate it(: I'll keep working at it, so here's chapter two. Karma. I don't own anything.

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**Karma**

_So quit the pointing finger,_

_Remember it is pointing back at you._

_Always first to judge, oh, but the guilty one is you._

_I know I ain't no saint, but I know I ain't as bad as you._

_Don't you think it's time to change_

_And maybe become a better you._

_- Karma, Lady _

one drink, just one drink. Yeah, that's what she told herself before entering the bar. Before her run in with that psychopath by the name of 'Tig'. Groaning as she sat up Olga ran her fingers through her cropped and matted hair, she leaned over and lit a cigarette, taking a quick glance at the clock she groaned again. Why the fuck was she awake so early?

Happy awoke to a pounding at his door, "Hap! Church!" Happy grumbled under his breath a 'fuck off' before rolling over to the edge of the bed. He held his head with his elbows at his knees, with a groan he stood and popped his back. Grabbing a T-shirt off the floor, he took a wiff and decided it was clean enough. He entered the main area of the clubhouse and whistled, last nights patch in party had swept through like a hurricane. Gemma had pulled their ears for being so fucking late, it was Tig's idea to stop in and start pre-gaming before entering Charming. They knew better than to listen to the wack-job, but they did anyway. When they came shuffling in the door Gemma had marched right too them and gave em' an ear full. The party had already begun, Jax and Opie were already so far gone you could barely get a coherent hello from either, it was a night worth celebrating. The two idiot's had earned their keep and were finally patched in.

On her way out of the diner, Olga jumbled her keys and headed to her car. The afternoon sun was hot on her back, making her wish she had chosen a colder environment, but the mountains and the crisp night air made her steer straight into the desert land. It called to her, she was so used to the cold, bitter air of Russia. She needed the sun. Pulling out of the parking lot she heard a rumble to her left, a group of biker's sped past her. They wore the same attire as the men before, only these men wore a different symbol on their backs. "Mayans" Olga muttered to herself, before turning to trail behind them, silently hoping they weren't heading into the town called charming. She was done with bikers after last night.

They all sat around the intricate reaper carved into the wooden table, hooting and cheering when Clay congratulated his son-in-law and Opie. The two sat near the end of the table, not yet earning a place up front. Happy sat in his chair the recognized him as the enforcer, a title he had rightfully men got serious when the discussion of Mayans came into play. Ever since their "truce" the Mayans have been pushing at their borders, trying to sell their product in the neighborhoods of charming, Kozik had stated, and the men nodded their heads in acknowledgment. "I say we push back," Happy put in his two sense, and Tig agreed. Clay was silent for a moment pondering their movement. "Too many of our men have died, we're only now coming into a time of peace." Bobby made a point, he was always trying to look for a pacifist way of doing things. Happy couldn't disagree more.

The sky had grown dark and the stars shined brightly above. Olga let her hand flow through the air of her open window, a soft peace overcame her. Directly in front of her, the full moon stood proud, but the slight red coloring gave her a chill. "Blood on the moon," she recalled her grandmother telling her a story about it when she was younger and asked about the 'strange red mist', she had called it. "Something is about to change, and not for the better moy rebenok." That night, her grandfather died of a heart attack.

They offered for him to stay another night in Charming, but he still had duties to his Tacoma charter, Hap promised Gemma he would stop at some motel for the night on his way back. The air bit against his face, he was thankful he had chosen to wear his skull mask, and glasses. Clay had told him to watch his back, the Mayans had been tailing the Sons. Kozik had a few threatening shots in his direction a few nights back on his way from Tacoma, taking a trip out of, or into, Charming had proven dangerous. Happy smirked, let the fuckers try something. Just as the thought passed he heard a rumble of a bike start up behind him and tires squeal in the direction he was riding. Shit.

Olga heard the squeal of tires and saw the headlights of two motorcycles ahead of her, she let out a sigh and rolled her eyes which widened as the sound of gunfire echoed into the air. "Fuck!" A bullet recashade and shattered her windsheild, Another pierced her shoulder. The first bike went down as she passed, noticing it was the man behind him whom was firing. "Sukin syn!" She shouted and hooked a left into the motorcycle,laying it down, dragging the man into the ditch along with it. She punched the break, and parked her car, pulling out her gun she walked carefully to the man laying on his stomach. "Mayan," She muttered remembering the group that had passed her earlier, the rest couldn't be far behind. She kicked the guy over, her gun still leveled on him. He was still breathing, most likely concussed. Her breathing was heavy as she took a small step closer, before she could neal, a gunshot rang through her ears, and brain matter splattered her white tink-top. She quickly turned and had her gun at the first man's head, his gun pointing to hers as well. His head was bleeding badly , and it looked like there was blood dripping from under his cut, mostly likely a gunshot wound. It reminded her of her shoulder, and she hissed as it throbbed, but she didn't lower her weapon. She stared into his eyes, which looked oddly familiar, they were as wild as an animal backed into a corner. He was willing to shoot her at any sudden movement, hers were no different. She let out a gasp as he started to sway, she took a step towards him but stopped in her tracks as he shot at her feet. "Don't fucking move," he growled out, his breathing short and gasping. Her eyes widened, she knew that voice. His eyes rolled back and he was on his back before she even knew what was happening, "Dammit." Above her, a cloud rolled over the moon, and the dim red lighting faded.

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moy rebenok- my child

Sukin syn- son of a bitch


	3. If I Didn't Know Better

So, I've been questioned on what Olga looks like. So at the bottom I'll post a link. I got the name from _Olga kurylenko, the actress_. As well as what i'd expect her to look like, these beginning chapters she looks like the woman she played in _Hitman, 'Nika.' _thank you all for the reviews(: I don't own anything.

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_**If I Didn't Know Better**_

_Oh you might as well be the devil,_

_Keeping me out past three_

_Well you're the one with that apple,_

_So baby you can't blame me_

_Oh why don't you keep drinking?_

_Give me one night with you_

_- if I didn't know better, The Civil Wars _

Olga huffed in frustration, using all her strength, she heaved the dead-weight up the edge of the ditch. "What are you, two-hundred pounds? Fucking fantastic." She spoke to the non-responsive male. Wanting nothing more than to kick him and leave him on the side of the road at this point. She couldn't fully understand why she didn't do just that, but realizing she couldn't bring herself to do something that awful, she let out another sigh of frustration. "You owe me big time pal." She said in between pants, as she finally pulled him to the side of her car, assessing the damage to her front end, she sneered, "Owe me a new bumper too, asshole." Just to let out some aggression, she kicked his thigh. knowing it probably wasn't the best idea, she didn't think twice about it and began the process of heaving him into her back seat. Olga paused as the distant rumbling sound of motorcycles reached her ears, "fuck,fuck,fuck." She let out a strangled roar and with one final push he was far enough in the seat to where she could slam the door shut and jump in the front seat. She put her car in reverse and drove like a mad-woman back in the direction she had come from, silently hoping he wouldn't croak in her back seat. "Well, so much for _charming." _Olga mumbled under her breath.

Pulling into the lot of a beat up looking motel she had passed earlier Olga wondered to herself how she was going to pull this off. Dragging in a severely wounded man would surely draw attention, plus she doubted they wanted blood all over their carpet. She gnawed on her lower lip as she pondered. An idea struck and she parked around the back entrance, knowing she would need a key for it she walked towards the front door and asked for a room, preferably on the lower floor. Once she obtained the key, she wheeled out a luggage cart to her car. Thankfully, the back lot was nearly empty and poorly lit, as well as out of sight. "Okay, lets see how this works." She grabbed his hands and dragged him onto the base of the cart, laying him down, she dug through her trunk for a blanket and covered the limp body. She pulled out a few suitcases and pillows and piled them on top, "Sorry." she muttered, she wasn't at all sorry, more like severely pissed. As shady as it looked, she held onto the delusion that she wouldn't get caught and began wheeling him and her luggage to the back door. The walk to her room was one of the tensest moments of her life, she reminded herself to remain calm over and over again until she reached her door and scrambled to wheel him inside. Once that was finished she slid down the door and let out a shuttered breath, "slava bogu." Her muscles were sore, and the leather jacket she had put on to cover her blood stained top was digging into her wounded shoulder, she threw the jacket off and began to work on dragging him to the bed.

After cleaning her shoulder and bandaging it, she made her way over to the bloody man on the bed. Checking his pulse, she felt relief wash over her that he was still alive. Olga pulled the torn biker mask from his face, she peeled off his cut and placed it on the chair beside her, she made quick work of his hoody and made an annoyed sound at the fact that she would have to cut off his shirt, which was completely soaked with wet and dry blood. Once his shirt was gone she raised a delicate eyebrow and observed the tattoos littering his body, the two smiley faces on his ribs made her face twist in confusion, she shook her head and began cleaning away at the cuts on the front part of his body, most likely gained from laying down his bike. She was appreciative of the sheer muscle and olive skin tone before her, she chastised herself, this was no time to be checking him out. As her hand leaned in to clean the cut on his forehead, she realized she forgot about the bullet wound, dug into his back, "Shit," Olga was about to roll him over when a hand shot out and grabbed her hand, there was a pained moan from the man and his dazed eyes slowly opened to look up at her, "the fuck you think you're doing?" He groaned out between shallow breathes, she scowled and spat out , "helping, idiot." They stared at each other for a short moment before she spoke again, " I need to get to your back, there's a bullet in your shoulder." She pointed out, " You don't fucking say?" He spat back at her sarcastically. He sat up slowly and groaned, Olga tried to push him back down but he swatted at her hand, "You shouldn't strain yourself," a small fuck off was his simple reply. She realized how close they were at that moment, she was sat on the edge of the bed, while he was half leaning on her good shoulder, his head rolled closely to the area where her shoulder and neck meet, his breathing came out in small pants, his breath warm, causing her to shiver, "Hurry the fuck up," he snapped at her, bringing her out of her thoughts. Olga moved quickly behind him, steadying him slowly as he leaned with his arms stretched in front of him, supporting his weight. Olga was amazed that he was still conscious, little alone holding himself up, he moved to sit cross-legged and straightened his back to give her better access. "I gotta take out the bullet," she said quietly and reached into her medical bag. "you know what you're doing?" He grumbled out, "I wouldn't even attempt this if I didn't," She whispered, recalling the numerous times she's pulled out a bullet from a member of her family, being apart of the Russian mafia makes you learn quickly. After a grueling hour of digging into his shoulder and cleaning it, she finally had the wound sewn and bandaged. She laid back with an exhausted sigh before pushing herself off the bed to clean up the bloody mess she had left on the desk next to her.

Happy watched the woman next to him as she cleaned up the mess, it had been silent for a long time, there was numerous questions racing through his mind, but he asked the most important one first, "why didn't you call the cops?" she paused for a brief moment, before sighing, "I have my reasons," Happy didn't like that answer and he glared at her back, "Answer the fucking question." She turned slowly with a small smirk on her face, "I just did." He growled at her, the sound merely made her smirk widen. "I really don't feel like having law enforcement breathing down my neck right now." She spoke, he raised an eyebrow at her, his hazel eyes piercing into hers, studying her for a moment he asked, "you on the run or somethin'?" She walked closer and happy felt his body tense up, "Or something." She let out a small laugh, "this isn't funny woman" He grumbled to her.

In that moment Olga felt her patience snap, "No this isn't fucking funny, I hauled your fat ass, up the side of a fucking ditch! After, may I remind you, being shot! I have my blood and yours, and some dead guys brains splattered all over me, I risked my life wheeling you into this piece of shit motel, Vy neblagodarny yebat' ! The least you could do is thank me! I was decent enough to not let you bleed to death on the side of the road, or be killed by those other fucking bikers!" She was cut short when happy stood so quickly she barely had time to register before he had her pinned to the wall, "What other bikers!?" He snarled at her, "Iisus khristos, I don't know, I left before they got close enough, but my guess was they were members of that other gang, the Mayans, I wasn't waiting around to find out." She spoke quickly, glaring at him, he didn't let up his grip on her wrists. "How do you know about the Mayans?" Olga growled in frustration, "Let go of me!" He shoved her further into the wall, "Answer me!" He snapped at her, "Nothing! I saw them drive by a diner I was at, then again, the symbol was on that mans cut." He lingered a little while longer before backing away from her. The room fell into a tense silence as the stared at one another, the same way they did holding each other at gunpoint.

Happy felt himself sway, due to blood loss and over exhausting his body, he cursed and felt his legs give away. she was there in a flash, steadying him, leaning his body weight onto her own. She struggled to keep him up, eventually lowering him onto his knees. They were both panting. Happy could feel himself slowly being dragged under, not before he looked into her eyes and saw a trace of worry. He chuckled quietly, what the hell has he gotten' himself into?

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Vy neblagodarny yebat' ! - You ungrateful fuck!

Iisus khristos- Jesus christ

slava bogu- thank god

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